HALLELUJAH ON HOLLOWAY ROAD

I was walking down Holloway Road with a takeaway tea,

Thinking about all the stupid things I’ve said lately,

And how life feels like a scratched CD—

Skipping on the same moments I keep pretending I’ve moved past.

There was this bloke singing under the overpass,

Proper off-key, coat ripped, face lit by the traffic lights.

He wasn’t busking for coins—he was busking for hope.

And every note he dropped felt like something I’d misplaced.

He sang some half-remembered hymn,

Mouth all shaky but heart dead certain,

And I swear for a second the whole road softened—

Even the buses seemed to hush up.

So I whispered, quiet as a prayer I didn’t believe in:

“Hallelujah… hallelujah…”

Not holy, not broken—just mine for a moment,

A tired man mumbling something that felt like truth

On a cold London curb.

I got home, kettle half-boiled, lights still flickering,

Flat smelling like last week’s chips and bad decisions.

Sat on the edge of the bed thinking about her—

The way she smiled like she was bored of smiling,

Like I was another thing she tolerated

Between emails and early mornings.

I kept replaying our last row on loop—

Every retort sharpened after the fact,

Every apology I saved for next time,

Which never came.

And that word hit me again,

That daft, oversized syllable

Falling out of the sky like a drunk pigeon:

Hallelujah.

Didn’t feel religious, didn’t feel romantic—

Felt like admitting I’d mucked it.

Felt like forgiveness with its laces undone.

So I breathed it out again,

More sigh than song:

“Hallelujah… hallelujah…”

Not the choir version.

The corner-shop-at-midnight version.

The I’m-trying-my-best-but-I’m-knackered version.

Maybe that’s what the word’s for—

Not cathedrals or choirs,

But blokes like me who keep messing up

And keep trying anyway.

A quiet nod to the universe saying,

“Yeah, alright, I hear you. I’ll give it another go.”

So I walked back to Holloway Road,

Found that same dim underpass,

And whispered to no one in particular:

“Hallelujah… hallelujah…”

Not holy.

Not broken.

Just honest.